


...And All Was Well

by blueelvewithwings



Series: Old Married Couple Fenders [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, also the Blight just kinda isn't a thing idk sue me, floofy floof and fluff it is, grandparents!Fenders, old!Fenders, they're just old and happy and life is great, this is some ambiguous timeline where they are all still in Kirkwall decades after the Chantry Boom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/pseuds/blueelvewithwings
Summary: Anders loves his children. Anders also loves his grandchildren. And he especially loves Fenris, and he loves kissing him despite the kids telling them that that's gross. He must have gotten old.  He couldn't be happier, and he finds a little time to think about just how happy he is.





	...And All Was Well

**Author's Note:**

> So there was talk in the Weird Shit Discord about how some people don't really have great grandparents, so I wrote up some super devoted grandpa Fenders for them bc everyone deserves loving, accepting, cookie baking and if-you-hurt-my-child/grandchild-I'll-kill-you-grandparents <3

„Fenris.“ Anders smiled and heavily leaned on his cane as he hobbled over to the door, but despite the fact that his knee was hurting and his back was aching he still took his husband‘s coat from him to hang it up and greeted him at the door with a kiss.

„How was your day, my love?“

Fenris returned his smile and his kiss – in peace for once, with no children about who made little gagging noises and told them they were too old for such things – before walking into the kitchen to prepare tea for both of them.

„It was good. I picked up Merrill‘s youngest youngest and brought her home, they don‘t want her to walk that route by herself yet as it‘s still full of bandits sometimes. Some idiot boy was picking on her, I showed him that some grandpas are not to be trifled with.“

He was smirking a little, and Anders knew that Fenris still was strong and agile and very fit for his age. He also looked years younger still, unlike Anders who was aging fast – by his own judgement, not Fenris‘.

„Good. No one messes with our children.“ Nevermind the fact that they hadn‘t managed to have children of their own (some things even magic couldn‘t do, it seems), they had filled their home with many adopted children, and somehow the children of all their companions and their children had become their family as well. Fenris hadn‘t quite bothered keeping track, but Anders knew that they were the proud grandparents of 34 lovely children, soon to be 35, and he wouldn‘t miss a single one of them for the world.

„Hawke came by earlier, he‘s coming over tomorrow with Isabela and the kids. Maybe some grandkids too if they wanna“ he explained and gestured at the oven. „I‘m making cookies for them, you know the kids always love them.“ He slowly made his way over to the oven to peek into it and check on his baked goods.

„You really are a grandfather to the bone, you“ he heard his favourite elf say, and then a cane was pressed into his hand and strong, slender arms wound around him. „Can barely walk anymore, but still forgets his cane in order to check on the cookies so the babies will be well fed.“

„Don‘t say you were expecting anything else“Anders teased him and leaned back into the arms of the man he loved.

„How is your hip today, love? You were out all day, do you need some rest?“ There was a loving chuckle from behind him and then Fenris patted his ass.

„You sound like an old man talking to an old man, my fool mage“ he said, but there was only fondness in his voice. „You have a point though, I will go sit down and rest for a while. Will you join me?“

Of course Anders did, as soon as he had rescued his cookies from the oven. He brought Fenris his tea and sat next to him with his own mug, reaching out to hold his hand. They really were old men now, but it didn‘t matter. They were happy and they had a big family, and they could give them the love they had never gotten when they were younger. And with a big family like this, every few years one of them would walk one of the children down the aisle and they‘d both spill happy tears as they watched someone they loved be bonded to the companion they had chosen for their life. It was a great life, and better than anything Anders had ever expected for himself. But the biggest wonder of them all still was the elf by his side, that had been there ever since they first kissed, who had never left him and lived up to his promise to spend his life at Anders‘ side.

He really was the happiest and luckiest man.

The next day found them sitting on the very same sofa, holding hands again, but this time surrounded by noisy grandchildren, slightly less noisy children, Hawke and Isabela and a mess of crumbs all over the floor. Anders swore that the crumbs amassed to more volume than the cookies had originally been, but he‘d seen the kids munch away on them and claiming that „grandpa Anders‘ cookies are the best!!“ so that couldn‘t quite be the case.

Luckily Merrill‘s oldest would be coming over the day after to help them clean, since that was one of the things neither Anders or Fenris could still do, much to both their dismay.

Anders looked down when a little boy of four climbed into his lap, and he cursed himself as it took a moment for him to remember whether this was Livius or Varric Jr. Damn, he really was getting old.

„Hey there, Varr“ he greeted the boy and let go of Fenris‘ hand to wrap his grandson up in his arms. „What are you up to today, huh?“ Little Varric leaned up to whisper something in his ear, and Anders couldn‘t help but smile. He winked at the boy and nodded. „Of course I‘ll show you. You‘ll just have to come over at a time when no one else is here so I can show you all on our own“ he promised and ruffled the boy‘s hair. They all wanted to know his secret cookie recipe at some point, and so far he had shown everyone who had asked a different one. Maybe one day they‘d be having a family celebration, and each of the kids would bake their own favourite of Anders‘ many cookies to remember him… it was a joyful and depressing thought both, and Anders quickly let it go. He didn‘t plan on dying anytime soon, he still had a lot of grandkids to raise.

When he looked back up from his little secret conversation, he saw that Fenris was gone from his side, and he was across the room, a wooden sword in his hand, and was facing off against one of their granddaughters. The second to youngest, Anders thought. Or maybe the third? Well, there certainly were nasty parts to getting older…

It was clear that the girl would win, and they all cheered when she heroically wrenched the sword from Fenris, who yielded immediately and rewarded her win with a big hug and kisses to her cheeks until she squealed.

How much things had changed… Fenris had been so shy at first, so closed off, never one to let someone touch him, nevermind be affectionate. And now he freely gave his love to their family, let them all into his big heart and kept them there. But he also had a reputation to uphold, and everytime one of their children – and now also the first of their grandchildren – brought someone home to them, the newly presented partner was in for a severe grilling on their intentions with Fenris‘ beloved child. He wouldn‘t let anyone hurt his babies, and the times that it still happened he made sure that they severely regretted their actions.

Anders thought that he was the most badass grandfather. And father. And husband. Anders was the grandpa who stayed at home and baked cookies and always had bandaids and kisses and a tissue to wipe snotty noses, and Fenris was the grandpa who went and picked the kids up wherever they needed it, at whatever time of the night or day, and who went and beat people‘s asses if someone of their family got hurt.

They were the perfect pair, really. Anders loved it. He couldn‘t remember a time where he had been happier. Even with his body aching everywhere and his brain failing to give him information as needed, and with his magic not being what it once was, their house was so full of love and life and happiness and everything he had ever wanted, he couldn‘t bring himself to be sad about it at all.

The only thing that still stung was that Karl had never been able to see this. Their first son was named Karl, however, and he had turned out to be a mage with a big heart and a calm demeanour, just like Anders‘ Karl had been, and they sometimes jokingly said that maybe a part of Karl‘s soul lived on in him. That was a bit of a comfort. And to know that the kids had it better, that Circles were a thing of the past and they could learn and live as they pleased, with teachers and guardians who respected them and taught them the good sides and the perils of magic and who helped them learn to control their gift and how to navigate the path of power and temptation. He had only recently spoken to Aveline about how in all the years after the Chantry explosion counted together there hadn‘t been as many abomination accidents as in the last year before, when Meredith was still around.

That made him proud, somehow.

He never thought he‘d live to see that day that mages were free, but instead he lived to see the day that a little boy saw his back and asked about the scars there, and when Anders replied that he had gotten them in the Circle, his darling mage grandson had looked at him with big eyes and asked him „what is a Si-kle, grampa?“

Anders had never felt more accomplished than that.

He had it all, a loving family, the most gorgeous husband, his freedom, and a reputation as the best healer around, even though people had to come by his house now if they wanted to be healed by him specifically. The clinic had long since been taken over by two of his children, and Anders‘ old bones didn‘t even allow him to go down to Darktown anymore. Or at least the area that had been Darktown. Viscount Varric had been good for Kirkwall, and the slums had been passé for a few decades by now.

He had it all, and in hindsight he wasn‘t even sure if he would change a single thing about his life, since it had all lead him to this point of supreme happiness.

No, he decided in the end. He wouldn‘t change a thing. Fate had been kind to him in the end, and that was what mattered.

Maybe the long road towards happiness had only made him more happy in the end.


End file.
